


The Upstairs Window

by Daphne_Dark



Series: Devil's Triangle [3]
Category: The Man in the High Castle (TV)
Genre: Adultery, Exhibitionism, Eye Sex, F/M, Homoeroticism, Longing, Masturbation, Other, Voyeurism, cuckold kink, devil's triangle, foot sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 11:28:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20777822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daphne_Dark/pseuds/Daphne_Dark
Summary: ... the affair between friends enters into murky waters as new depths of feeling are uncovered...





	The Upstairs Window

The day was bright and brilliant and fine. A lovely day to have brats and burgers _al fresco_.

The three of them had been busy in the garden all morning and most of the afternoon. Tomato season didn’t stop just because it was a weekend, and then there was the matter of Helen’s prize dahlias. But at last they were done, and could lounge about in the yard ‘til it was time to start the grill.

John, always the slow poke, finally washed the dirt and plant sap from his hands and was changing into bermudas; a polo was laid out on the bed. Idly, he looked out the bedroom window.

Helen was already stretched out on a lounge chair, basking. She had on a red swimsuit and strappy red sandals, and her pretty blue eyes were protected with heart-shaped sunglasses.

Erich went to the lounger on the other side, just wearing shorts. He said something to Helen, then picked up a tube with something white. Ah, yes, a zinc oxide suspension, so her ivory skin didn’t get all dark and sun-damaged…

She rolled over as Erich rubbed her legs with the lotion… after a while, he undid her red sandals and put some on her feet, tickling her toes. John could see and faintly hear her laugh through the closed window. Then, expertly, she slid her foot up Erich’s thigh, up the leg of his shorts.

Erich was hardly shy about holding her feet there, letting them wriggle as much as she wanted. Then, quickly, he took off his shorts.

John put a fist to his mouth. He hated himself for watching, but he couldn’t help it. After all, he’d thrown them together.

He gave them too much leeway; he was gone far too often. He was angry at himself for his trips to Berlin, his conferences… that damn road trip with Miss Crain. Had he lost all sense?

Erich was completely naked; Helen was cockteasing him and they both were enjoying it. John turned his head… Erich was nicely made, no doubt about it. Helen squeezed the soles of her feet around him as pleasurably as she would have with her hands.

She was always so sexy, so downright wanton with him. There was no other way to look at it. But it shocked John that his aide was so wanton with her. He was sliding up her now, unfastening and pulling off her swimsuit. John’s own cock jammed the inside of his shorts. Desperate, he unbuttoned the first few buttons, shoving his hand in to ease himself…

From his angle at the upstairs window, he enjoyed the round heft of her breasts. Erich lifted them, all the better to display them. From this angle, too, high up and foreshortened, her ass was high and round. They were both naked now and he loved watching Erich rut her from behind.

Oh, he knew what he was doing, all right. John ground his teeth. Why… _how_… had Erich gotten so skillful? He knew his dating history, or lack thereof. No secretaries swooned over Raeder when he walked down the hall. Society events left him gawping quietly in a corner, and talking shop with other officers, more likely than not.

Truth to tell, Erich seemed most comfortable, most himself, in only two places. One was relaxing during their “family time” on these weekends: grilling out, playing board games, or enjoying music. The other was when the two of them, John and Erich, worked together on special assignments, their problem-solving for the Reich.

John smiled. His quiet aide, with his head for logistics and unquestioning loyalty. His steadfast work ethic and utter lack of _savoir faire_. This was the man who was so seductive with his Helen? John’s head boggled…

But John’s curiosity, kinkiness even, got the better of him. He leaned against the window, watching and dropping his shorts around his ankles. What a weirdo he was, enjoying himself being cuckolded!

Helen was enjoying herself, her head down. John could sense her wetness; he could see it on Erich’s shaft. The man was smooth, literally smooth, and the slipperiness of him belied the force which he piled into her.

John’s cock rose rebellious, as if it had eyes with which it too wanted to see Erich’s beauty. John gasped at the thought. Male beauty?… He broke into a cold sweat. But he _had_ thought, he _had_ seen. Once seen, he could not unsee.

He swallowed, tried to turn away his head. The thought was horrid; the thought was thrilling. John reasoned with himself; he loved his wife, so naturally it was good to see her being made happy…

He felt watched, and looked down. Erich was looking up. He was looking at John, staring at John’s hand gripping himself. Slowly, he looked into John’s eyes. John looked back… oh god, eye contact. Erich’s eyes… they were dark, there was a deep flicker in them. “For you,” they seemed to say, “All that I do is for you…”

John leaned against the window, hefting himself up, cock and balls. Line of sight. Not breaking eye contact.

Erich suddenly broke the stare… but not due to shyness. Helen had said something, and Erich attended her. Then she too looked up, saw her husband displayed in the window like a new piece of furniture. She laughed and made eye contact as well, teasingly, playing with her clit. Then Erich pulled her toward him, making her pay attention to him. Her head moved down again, and John could see her rocking against him, ready to fuck, wanting to orgasm…

Erich looked up again, and their eyes returned to each other. John saw his long strokes in Helen peripherally, feeling them. A slight smile played about Erich’s lips. Then John knew why Erich always felt happiest with him: because he loved him. He didn’t want those women; even Helen, who he loved and cared about, would never compare with John. He caressed and loved her body because John loved it, he put his cock happily where John put his…

And now he looked at John, eyes begging. John touched himself again, fondling himself with deliberation. For he was not simply relieving pressure… he was touching himself in the way Erich wanted to and never could. He watched Erich bang into his wife with deep strokes, strokes that belonged to John and which John could never give nor receive. He looked lovingly at Erich; accepting the offering, such as it was.

But now it was (as it had to be) Helen’s turn. She thrust and moaned… John knew from experience what the gush of her would feel like on Erich’s cock. And Erich held her, cared for her, gentle and lustful and strong.

Finally, John spurted against the window. He’d have to clean it – but he didn’t care. He couldn’t be there on the chaise with them. But he gave himself to them. He gave himself to both of them.


End file.
